November 28
Dear Diary,
My immune system is worthless. Apparently, I’ve caught the Thanksgiving flu everyone at school has. They’ll get over it in a few days. I’ll be stuck with it till May—if I’m lucky.
After my amazing date with Damian last night, I came home and went to bed. I awoke a dozen times in the middle of the night feeling like I’d fallen off a three-story building. It’s been the same routine with every round of chemo. I get sick from the treatment, then I feel better because of all the pill-popping. After my immune system has been destroyed, I catch a virus I can’t kick. You’d think I’d be used to it by now—I wish.
I tossed and turned most of the night, dreaming about Damian and our fire-lit dinner. And, of course, about his lips on mine. I don’t have much experience in that department, but holy cow, he’s an amazing kisser! There’s no way it can get any better than that! It’s easy to get lost in him.
I couldn’t conjure up the nerve to ask about the bra on his bedroom floor. Stupid, I know. Disastrous, maybe. But how was I supposed to ruin the moment?
I’ll ask. I have to, no matter how scared I am of his answer.
I tucked my diary under the pillow. Last night’s date with Damian ran through my mind, making me smile.
If only this stupid flu hadn’t come on!
~*~
It was past noon already. The sun hung high in the sky, peeking through the curtains. My entire body ached. I’d lost everything in my stomach in the middle of the night. A half-drunk glass of water sat on my nightstand, mocking me. My mouth felt full of cotton, but if 5AM was any indication, I wouldn’t be able to keep down the other half, either.
The irresistible water called my name, though. My throat burned. I snatched the glass and drank the rest in one swig. It felt heavenly going down; the glass emptied too fast. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and wobbled to the bathroom down the hall.
“Hey, honey,” Mom greeted me. She took the glass from me and placed her palm against my forehead. “You’re warm. Definitely not from the chemo. I’ll get you more water. Go back to bed.”
I nodded, mumbled a “thank you” and turned around. My legs almost gave out, and I had to cling to my bed so I wouldn’t collapse to the floor. When I crawled between the sheets, I felt like I had just run the Boston Marathon. Not like I knew what that would feel like.
I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow, groaning. It wasn’t long before I heard my mom enter and set the glass by the bed. She kissed the top of my head then closed the door behind her. I hated that this was a normal routine in our home.
The glass sat untouched, no longer sweet-talking me. It took too much energy to roll over and reach for it. My eyelids started to fall. Sleep would be blissful, and I wanted nothing more than to drift off. I was almost asleep when my phone rang. Fumbling, I grabbed it off the pillow and squinted at the screen. If the number hadn’t belonged to Damian, I wouldn’t have answered.
“Hey.” I tried to sound chipper.
“Did I wake you?” Oh, how I missed that voice.
Talking hurt my throat. It took effort to push the words out; a few seconds of conversation left me breathless, but I didn’t want him to hang up. His voice was already soothing me.
“I…uh. No, I’m still awake.”
“Still?”
“No. I…I’ve been asleep. And…” My throat scratched.
“Kate, are you okay?”
I sighed. “I have the flu. No big deal.” I coughed.
“Flu?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me through the phone. “Yeah. It hit in the middle of the night. It’s okay, though. It’s…happened before.”
“Damn, I hope it wasn’t the lobster.”
“No. Uh, then you’d be sick, too.”
“Right.” Silence filled the other end. I swallowed, and my throat burned. The glands on my neck had swelled to the size of golf balls.
“Can I come over?”
Huh?
It didn’t seem odd for me to go to his house or have him sitting with me in the hospital. But if he came here, he’d have to meet my parents, and I—
“Kate?”
“Oh, uh. Aren’t you worried about getting sick?” I had to stall somehow.
“It’s not like I have to go to school. I just want to come and be with you.”
“I won’t be good company. I’m really tired.”
“Then I’ll watch you sleep and hold your hand,” he answered quickly.
Honestly, I liked the sound of that. Damian’s hand wrapped around mine. His body next to me. Ahh. Yes, come over.
“I’ll have … to call you back.” I rubbed the knobs on the sides of my neck. They answered by throbbing.
We hung up, and I sent a text to my mother’s phone. Seconds later, she came racing up the stairs.
She knocked before she stepped inside. “What do you need, sweetheart?”
“Uh, would it be okay if…” I took a deep breath. “Damian called. Would it be okay if he came over for a little while?”
My mother’s brown eyes widened in surprise.
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out. “I think you need your rest.”
My mother almost threw me a party when I got my first period. I had to talk her down; she was so excited that “her little girl was becoming a woman!” It made my stomach churn thinking about what she’d do about my first boyfriend. I wouldn’t be the one to open the door and save him when he came in.
Yes, I knew what she was thinking. The smile spreading across her face proved me right.
“He said he just wants to be with me,” I told her against my better judgment. Her smile grew to a toothy beam.
“How sweet! I knew there was something going on between the two of you! Oh, my little girl is growing up.”
I glared at her. We were alone and already she was embarrassing me.
“Well, I suppose he can come over.” She rubbed my hand. Then her smile faded, a serious expression replacing the happiness.
“Now Katie. There are boys out there—and I’m not saying Damian is one of them—who only want to be with a girl for one thing.”
What? Now? “Oh my gosh, Mom! Please stop!”
“No. No, dear. I need to do my parental duty.”
I shook my head. The headache I already had worsened with the movement.
Distracted by my disease, we’d never actually had “the talk” before.
“I know that being a teenager can be difficult, especially with raging hormones and a boyfriend. I was your age once upon a time too, you know.”
‘Raging hormones?’ Please tell me this isn’t happening.
“Just because a boy says he loves you doesn’t mean you need to have sex with him. If he truly loves you, he can wait. And I know it’s easy to get caught up in the moment, and it feels good, and you might want to…”
I leaned over my bed and grabbed the garbage can. It was only the half-glass of water from earlier, but it was enough to quiet my mother. Oh thank you, Lord.
“You’re sick. I guess we can have this conversation later,” she said, taking the fluid-filled sack from the garbage can and out of my bedroom.
I heaved a sigh and rolled over. Saved by puke. Lovely.
I called Damian back. He answered on the first ring.
“You can come.” I gave him my address.
“Hmm. I was hoping you’d say that.”
The doorbell rang.
I smiled thinking about him climbing in his car as soon as we’d hung up.
“I have a movie and a 2-liter of Sierra Mist. That’s what you’re supposed to drink when you’re sick, right?”
I laughed then clutched my stomach in pain. “Thanks,” I whispered.
“See you in a few.”
I heard the front door close and Damian’s sweet voice float up to me.
“Thank you, Mrs. Browdy,” he said as he walked up the stairs to my room.
“Just remember, she needs her rest.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”
“Marcy. Please call me Marcy.”
Mom knocked on the door before she poked her head in. “You have company, sweetheart.”
My insides melted when Damian became visible. I hoped my mother didn’t notice the quiet sigh that escaped me.
“Hey.” Damian’s voice sounded rough. His expression was unreadable. No smile graced his beautiful face. No sparkle in his eyes.
Not what I’d expected.
My mother winked at me and intentionally left the door open before she headed back downstairs. I heard her giggle a little too loudly. Damian didn’t seem to notice, his gaze focused on me.
I couldn’t look away. Part of me worried he’d been drinking. It would explain his stale demeanor. He pulled up a chair next to my bed. His eyes weren’t glossy, and his breath didn’t reek of alcohol.
“What’s wrong?”
His lips began to form a grin. “Nothing. You—”
“You’re lying.”
Damian’s brow creased. “My mom could always tell when I was lying.”
I shrugged. “We’re gifted. Now tell me the truth.”
“Just surprised, that’s all. You’re paler than I thought.” He cleared his throat and glanced away for a second.
Sure, my skin had the complexion of a polar bear, and according to my reflection, my eyes were decorated with dark circles. Maybe they were a bit sunken in, too, but influenza didn’t come with redeeming qualities.
From out of his bag, Damian pulled out the Sierra Mist and poured me a glass. “Drink.”
I stared at it, biting my lower lip. It looks so good!
“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a small sip.
Leaning back on my pillow, I kept my eyes on Damian. He took my hand in his as he slid off his chair and sat down on my mattress. He still didn’t smile. My stomach instantly started to churn.
I tried to fight it back, to hold it in. He grabbed the garbage just as the soda flew out of my mouth. If it wasn’t for Damian, I would have thrown up on myself.
My body ached all over, my throat felt like a clump of boils, and my head was a ticking bomb. I could barely keep my eyelids open, my vision blurring behind the tears. Damian had seen more of me in gross states the last weeks than most guys ever saw.
“Sorry,” I grumbled.
“Kate,” he started, hesitant. “Should I … Do I need call my dad? Maybe it’s something more?”
“No, really. It’s just the flu. I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.” My words sounded rehearsed.
He sighed as his hand glided over my cheek. I closed my eyes, concentrating on his touch, moving down my chin, over my lips, and across my neck. I drank it in. Every trace his fingertips made across my skin sunk into me like paint on a canvas.
“Damn,” he whispered. “You’re burning up.”
I rolled onto my side, burying my face into my pillow. More than anything, I wanted Damian to keep caressing me. I heard him breathing. His hands never stopped moving over my face, my bald head, my arms.
Damian’s phone rang. Sighing, he kissed my head and yanked it out of the pocket of his jeans.
“Yeah?…Tonight?” He let out a nervous breath. “I don’t know. I…yeah. Okay.”
The voice on the other end rose loud enough for me to distinguish it as female.
I peeked one eye at him. He looked uncomfortable.
“I know. I was busy last night. Fine. I’ll call you later.” He turned his phone off before tucking it back in his pocket. His eyes focused on the door.
“You all right?” I asked.
His head snapped in my direction. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He forced a smile. “You need some rest. I’ll be right here.”
I wanted to ask him who she was, but my head pounded so much I could barely think.
He drew the blankets over my shoulders, touching every inch of bare skin on his way. My body tingled as I relaxed into his caresses. Nothing felt better than this.
Before I dozed off, I felt his body against mine, and his arms wrapped around me. His lips pressed against my neck.
~*~
I didn’t know what time it was when my eyes fluttered open. Light still streamed into my room through the sheer curtains. Damian lay beside me, his arm draped over my stomach. I squirmed under him, but he didn’t move. Sweat poured off my brow, and having Damian so close to me made me warmer. I gently moved his arm off me and heard him moan in my ear. Then he sucked in a sigh, vibrations rattling in his throat.
I grimaced as I swallowed. My lungs screamed in protest as I drew in a deep breath.
My head pounded harder than before. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus on something, anything. The room looked fuzzy with the lines blurring together.
I tried to turn my head, but it cracked and stopped moving. A raspy moan filled my throat. Staring at the ceiling, my eyes teared up. Suddenly, my body began to shake uncontrollably, and I shut my eyes.
What’s happening to me?
~*~
Darkness surrounded me when I awoke again. Damian was no longer lying beside me. Heaviness weighed on my eyelids, my head, all over. I wanted to turn my head, call out his name—neither was possible. My head refused to move. In fact, I couldn’t move anything except my eyelids. And that took all the energy I had. They fell shut.
I heard my door creak open. My mother didn’t address me when she spoke.
“Still asleep?”
“Yeah. Her breathing is sporadic and shallow.” Damian’s voice answered from somewhere next to me. He hesitated for a second before adding, “Her temp’s gone up.”
A moment of silence passed between them before my mother said, “I think we need to call your father.”
“I already did.”